Dear Mr. Spider,
I had big plans for the day. I was going to shower, take a walk, run some errands. And then I saw you, there, on the wall. Just hanging out with your smug attitude. Normally in situations like these I would summon my husband, but he wasn’t home. So I put on my big girl panties and got the vacuum. That’s when you regrettably decided to move into an unknown location. Not cool, Spider. Not. Cool. I’m giving you approximately an hour to vacate the premises. I’ve left the front door open for you.
Well, here it is, two hours later, and you haven’t left out the front door. I know, because the baby and I have been standing on this chair watching for you the entire time. I even gave you an extra hour as you probably move slow on account of your freakishly gigantic size. We appear to be at a crossroads. So you can either leave now, or I will be forced to vacuum every nook and cranny of this home, and that sounds really labor intensive. Please, just leave. I’m tired of standing on this chair.
Giant Creepy Thing,
OK. I give up. I can’t live with a Spider, this place is too small as it is. So you win. The place is yours. We keep the toilet paper under the sink, the silverware is in the third drawer on the left, and I hope you like Lean Cuisines and cereal because that’s all we have in the house. Also, the neighbors will be suspicious of you, so proceed with caution. We’ve enjoyed our time here, I’m sure you will, too.
My husband has come home and informed me that we are not giving you our home, so I guess this means we’re going to cohabitate. Clearly, we need some ground rules. I have taken the liberty of drawing up ours.
~ You will never be in charge of the remote control.
~ You are never allowed to go near me, the baby, or the dog.
~ You ARE allowed to go near Mike, especially when he has a newspaper in his hand.
~ Eating on the couch is never allowed.
~ Don’t leave your webs all over the house, my mother already thinks I don’t dust enough.
Dear Mr. Spider,
Living together clearly wasn’t meant to be. After nagging Mike until he lost his mind, he searched our place until he found you. I wish you the best of luck with your new residence, wherever the flushed toilet water takes you. Let me know when you settle and I’ll forward your mail.